


floating in the moonlit sky;

by shukagari



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, mostly iwaoi but matsuhana is still very there, warnings for extra cheese and my ridiculous sense of humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shukagari/pseuds/shukagari
Summary: Iwaizumi turns up to the Christmas costume party dressed as Oikawa.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is utterly ridiculous oh my goodness. I seriously hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> the title is from one of my favourite Christmas song 'walking in the air' (I love it so much, the boys voice is angelic!!)

Iwaizumi knocks on the front door, and nervously shuffles his feet; looking back behind him at the darkened neighbourhood, his hands shoved deep in his shorts' pockets. 

He has to wait so long for anyone to answer that he almost gives into his nerves and turns back to go home; but then Hanamaki is throwing open the door with a flourish, still finishing off a shouted conversation with Matsukawa across the room, and that plan goes out the window.

Hanamaki comes to an abrupt halt when he actually sees Iwaizumi. He blinks rapidly, once, twice, _three_ times and then, finally, doubles over laughing, his beer sloshing out of his plastic cup and all over the entryway floor. 

Iwaizumi scowls, and shoves his hands deeper into his shorts' pockets. “Shut up,” he grumbles, and eyes up Hanamaki's shiny, brown, and frankly _garish_ costume. “At least I didn't come as a cooked turkey.”

“No,” Hanamaki wheezes out, leaning forward to cling to the door frame, “You only came as _Oikawa_.” And the laughter bubbles out of him all over again. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles again, but of course, Hanamaki doesn't listen to him.

“Besides,” Hanamaki says, waggling a finger at him and attempting to look reproachful. “My costume is cute; it's a couples outfit.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “What's Matsukawa dressed as then? Is he another crappy cooked turkey?”

“No,” Hanamaki tells him, quite seriously. “He's dressed as the carving knife.”

Iwaizumi gives him an incredulous, slack-jawed look. “You are making fun of me,” he says slowly, “when your boyfriend is dressed as a knife?”

“Yeah, but he looks cute,” Hanamaki informs him with a bright, excited grin. “Let me show you. Matsukawa!” He yells, turning back to the teeming living room Iwaizumi can just see over his shoulder, “Iwaizumi is here!”.

Matsukawa is almost immediately at Hanamaki's side, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. It takes Matsukawa a moment to notice him, as he's grinning goofily (and drunkenly), staring avidly at the side of Hanamaki's face, but when he does he freezes for barely a second, before he's bending over in loud, raucous laughter; pulling Hanamaki down by the neck too. 

And now, not only is Iwaizumi still scowling, but he can also feel an embarrassed flush crawling up his neck. “Is it really that stupid?” He asks softly, not looking at either of them; his eyebrows pinch together in worry and a frown pulls his lips down. His two friends both slowly dawdle their way up to sobriety, and although Matsukawa is still quietly wheezing, at least he was doing it _quietly_.

“No,” Hanamaki says, and reaches forward to pat Iwaizumi on the shoulder. “I'm sure Oikawa will love it.” Iwaizumi barely manages to bite back the smile his words cause; the pleased blush still blooms on his cheeks, however, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“You think?” He asks, and flicks his eyes swiftly back to him.

“Yes,” Hanamaki says, and Matsukawa nods seriously along at his side, offering a repeated, “He'll love it.” 

A smile twitches at Iwaizumi's lips, and he scratches the back of his neck. “I like your costume, Matsukawa,” he says, even though it looks kind of stupid; but a couple's outfit on this level of stupid is so undeniably _them_ that it's almost kind of cute. 

“I know,” Matsukawa says, and plants a hand on his hip, “It's great.” 

Hanamaki smiles fondly at him, and reaches up to touch the top of his silvery foam knife head. “I told you you looked cute.”

“I didn't say he looked cute,” Iwaizumi is quick to correct.

Hanamaki ignores this, and instead tilts his head back to the living room. “Come on inside, Iwaizumi. Oikawa is already here.”

Iwaizumi hesitates a moment, his hands stuffed back into his pockets as his eyes dart around the room behind their heads.

Matsukawa grins wide, and shakes his head; taking Iwaizumi's arm and lugging him forward. “He's been asking for you.”

Iwaizumi blinks, and the pink, pleased flush brightens his cheeks again; with his heart pounding in his ears, and an excited tremor shooting up his spine, he steps into the house. 

–

Iwaizumi has decided, as he sits in an almost empty corner of the living room, that he isn't really a party person. 

He likes talking to people, he can do it quite well (not as well as Oikawa, but that doesn't make him bad; Oikawa is almost obnoxiously good at understanding others, and Iwaizumi is only _obnoxiously_ good at completely understanding Oikawa so it would be unfair to compare them), but he doesn't like to have to compete with the volume of the music, and he also doesn't like the _volume_ of the music (he's pretty certain he'll have a phantom throbbing in his ears for the rest of the week).

There's also an anonymous couple getting handsy on the sofa next to him; but as he has now moved further up the seat, and their elbows aren't jutting into him anymore, he finds them pretty easy to ignore. Honestly, they are the least of his problems.

One of the most pressing of them is that he's somehow spilt what smells like beer down the front of Oikawa's volleyball uniform; the white one, so it stands out stark and brown. He doesn't know how it got there, he's been sipping from a cup of ginger ale all night, but he does know that Oikawa will probably whine at him for it if he doesn't return it pressed and cleaned, and in it's near mint condition that Oikawa had kept it in. 

Iwaizumi also can't _find_ Oikawa. And that, is the worst of his problems. 

He sits, staring into his cup of ginger ale and swirling it about. He sighs, turns in his seat to do another quick sweep of the room, and then plants himself firmly back down; his fingers tapping an impatient beat on his thigh. 

He almost considers going home again, and then suddenly there are fingers on his neck, and Oikawa's voice in his ear, “I'd heard you'd come dressed as me, but I honestly didn't believe it.” Iwaizumi tries not to shiver as his warm breath hits his skin.

Oikawa comes around him, stroking a hand over the top of his head. “I like the wig,” he says, taking the armchair opposite, and gracefully crossing his legs. 

“I like your costume,” Iwaizumi says, quickly letting his eyes wander down Oikawa's form; he's dressed in a loose-fitting reindeer one piece, with a red circle painted onto the tip of his nose. He looks adorable, and Iwaizumi can already feel himself getting flustered. 

Oikawa gives him a bright smile, looking up at him from beneath his lashes. “Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi nods his head, awkwardly coughs into his hand and takes a long gulp of his drink; it is now time to get the show on the road. 

He starts off simple, and rubs at the bridge of his nose in a way he knows Oikawa does when he's nervous; pointedly not removing his eyes from Oikawa's face.

Oikawa continues to smile at him; his eyes warm, and gentle, and seemingly unaware.

“So, Oikawa,” he says, as he tucks a lock of his wig behind his ear; imitating a move he's seen Oikawa do many times, “When did you get here?”

“About an hour before you,” he says, and leans forward, his smile turning smug. “Did it take you that long to figure out my locker combination?”

“Nope,” Iwaizumi says, checking over his nails (another Oikawa trademark), “I tried your birthday first, but that didn't work so I tried _mine_ ,” - Oikawa betrays not a hint of a blush at this - “and got in, and then I quickly changed into your volleyball gear. I was done in about five minutes, although it took me a bit to sort out the wig.”

Oikawa quirks a brow. “Then why did it take you so long to get here?”

Iwaizumi smiles. “Just had to work up the nerve, I guess.”

Oikawa stares at him, a little puzzled crease forming between his brows as he watches Iwaizumi check over his nails again. Iwaizumi stares back, and then blindly reaches to his left to latch onto the wrist of a passing stranger.

The stranger comes to a pause, and Iwaizumi regretfully rips his eyes away from Oikawa's intense gaze and up to them. The stranger is dressed in what looks to be a bargain bin Santa clause costume, and Iwaizumi is thrown off by the large, white, perfectly brushed beard that is right in his face when he turns for barely a second. 

“Did you know,” he begins conversationally, “that Oikawa's birthday is July 20th?”

The Santa is mercifully silent, and Iwaizumi takes the opportunity to dump some of his Oikawa facts onto this poor, unsuspecting stranger. He starts off with Oikawa's favourite food, and gradually delves deeper; the Santa Clause remains silent throughout, but he appears to be watching Iwaizumi with dark, intelligent eyes through a pair of fake, golden rimmed spectacles. 

Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa quietly gasping, and making tiny squeaking noises across from him but he steels himself, doesn't look over and pummels on through.

When Iwaizumi finishes, and finally let's go of the strangers wrist, they leave without a word but turn back briefly to give him a reassuring nod before disappearing into the kitchen. Iwaizumi is too unperturbed by what his words may have done to Oikawa to waste any time questioning it.

He clears his throat, remains silent but for a large gulp of his ginger ale to wet his suddenly dry mouth and throws a glance Oikawa's way.

Oikawa is still sat opposite him, which is good news at least, but he now looks as if he's been frozen in place; his mouth hangs open a little in a perfect 'o', and his eyebrows have ridden up his forehead with his surprise.

“Wow, Iwaizumi-san,” an almost rough sounding voice says to his right, and Iwaizumi startles; he'd completely forgotten about his handsy couch-mates. Iwaizumi whips his eyes over to the kissing couple beside him and he is surprised to discover that he is not surprised at all that the kissing couple is revealed to be Yahaba and Kyoutani. Yahaba is breathless and slightly pink-cheeked as he sits comfortably perched in Kyoutani's lap; looking perfectly at ease, with his arms hanging over Kyoutani's shoulders. Kyoutani, in contrast, is very red-faced and steadfastly not meeting Iwaizumi's eyes; his face buried in Yahaba's neck. 

“I didn't know you knew that much about Oikawa-san,” Yahaba continues, blinking widely at him; his hand appears to be almost absently smoothing up and down Kyoutani's flushed neck. 

“Yes,” Iwaizumi says, and turns to give Oikawa a very pointed look, “I do. I do because I care about him.”

“Excuse us,” Oikawa says, not taking his own eyes off of Iwaizumi's. “Iwa-chan and I need to go outside and have a talk.” With that, Oikawa stands up, grabs his hand and begins dragging him out of the house; Iwaizumi manages to shove his almost empty cup into either Matsukawa or Hanamaki's hands, who are both flirting outrageously together in the corner before he's dragged on out.

Oikawa throws the front door open (the cold night air bites at their cheeks, and the winter wind whooshes in through the door before they it close behind them), and then they've walked halfway down the street, the street lights brightening their way, and Oikawa still hasn't let go of his hand. Iwaizumi wonders if he can feel his racing pulse at his wrist. 

“Why were you doing all of that in there?” Oikawa asks, finally turning around. He drops Iwaizumi's hand then, and Iwaizumi pretends he isn't bothered by it, even though there isn't any point anymore; he knows, right now, that they are at a tipping point, and that confessions are going to be happening very, very soon and perhaps sooner than _Oikawa_ is ready for them. He can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage at the prospect, and he maybe feels a little dizzy. 

“All of what?” Iwaizumi asks casually, and rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

Oikawa stares at his fingers on his nose, and then raises a thin eyebrow. “You know what,” he says, and then decides to elaborate anyway, “All the things that I do, my little habits and stuff. And you were talking to Kunimi about a load of stuff about me, and just what was all that about?”

“That Santa clause was Kunimi?” He asks, stalling. Oikawa raises another eyebrow, and Iwaizumi hates how he can do that so easily and he hates that he thinks it's so attractive (although, maybe he kind of doesn't hate it and he maybe actually wants to kiss the space between them). 

At Oikawa's persistently raised eyebrows, Iwaizumi concedes with a sigh. “Fine,” he says, “I was doing it because of a conversation I overheard you having with Hanamaki.”

When Iwaizumi doesn't immediately continue Oikawa says, “I have many conversations with Hanamaki, you'll have to tell me which one you are referring to.” He presses his fingertips to his nose, then stills and drops his hand; but Iwaizumi is now certain that he knows which one.

“The one you had earlier today,” Iwaizumi starts, then licks his lips. “The one in which you told Hanamaki that you thought I didn't care about you as much as you care about me, and thought that I didn't really care to know anything about you anymore.” Iwaizumi licks his lips again, and twists his fingers together before adding in a quiet voice, “I don't know why you'd ever think that I didn't care about you.”

Oikawa is silent for a very long time. “It's not that,” he says quietly, and finally gives into the urge to rub at his nose; and normally Iwaizumi would find this ridiculously endearing and be made to wear a big goofy smile, and he still does find it _ridiculously_ endearing, but he's suddenly much too nervous to even muster the smile. 

“It's not that,” Oikawa says again, “I know you care about me.”

“Then what is it?” Iwaizumi asks, “Is it the not knowing anything about you? Because I think I proved tonight that I do.”

Oikawa shuffles his feet, and stares off at a spot behind Iwaizumi's head. “I think I probably do care about you more, I mean, at least I care about you in a _different_ way to how you care about me – I mean I still care about you as my best friend, but also as a, erm,” Oikawa's fingers have edged up to his nose again; Iwaizumi reaches forward, and carefully takes his hand.

“What is it?” Iwaizumi asks, he gives a comforting squeeze to Oikawa's fingers

Oikawa scratches his neck with his free hand; he clears his throat, his eyes held tightly on their joined hands. “Well, I think there's one thing you don't know about me, I lo-” Oikawa cuts himself off with a pained gasp, and bites on his lip. 

“No,” Iwaizumi says carefully, “I think I know that, too.”

Oikawa looks up at him; a crease between his thin eyebrows with his big brown eyes wide and confused. “You do?” He asks, and when Iwaizumi nods his head he says, “And what do you think about that?”

Oikawa does not avert his eyes this time, and Iwaizumi finds it slightly unnerving to admit this under his watchful gaze; but he stares right back as him as he admits, “I think that I love you, too”. He scratches the back of his neck, and reforms it, “I mean, I _know_ that I love you.”

Oikawa smiles, and it's warm and lovely and his eyes are sparkling and Iwaizumi just wants to kiss his lips and hold him close; but he waits for Oikawa to do it.

Oikawa, still smiling, leans forward and loops his arms loosely around his neck; Iwaizumi puts his hands on Oikawa's waist. Their noses bump, and Iwaizumi finds that his eyes are almost closed. “I love you, too,” Oikawa whispers, and then he presses their lips together.

Oikawa tugs the wig off, throws it somewhere on the ground and Iwaizumi groans as Oikawa's hands run up through his hair; his blunt nails scratch softly at his scalp.

There is only the warmth of Oikawa's mouth for a long moment, his hands in his hair and the tip of his nose pressing into Iwaizumi's cheek. Iwaizumi pulls the hood of Oikawa's costume down, smoothing his hand up the soft skin of Oikawa's neck and into his hair. Oikawa's tongue gently presses against his lips, and he opens up to him with a groan; his eyelids fluttering. 

They stand beneath the glow of a bright street light, wrapped tightly in each other's arms; and it is everything Iwaizumi could have ever wanted it to be (even though Oikawa is dressed as a reindeer, and he's dressed in Oikawa's volleyball gear; although maybe a first kiss like this is so undeniably _them_ that it is completely perfect). 

The kiss slows down and Oikawa pulls back after pressing their lips together one last time, and when his eyes flicker open he finds Iwaizumi smiling at him, soft and content. 

“You've got a red bit on your cheek,” he says, and points to the red paint on his nose that is now slightly smudged, and then taps Iwaizumi's cheek. “It looks like you've been kissed.”

“I have been kissed,” Iwaizumi says easily, “And it was very, very good.”

Oikawa laughs softly, and looks down; his cheek flushed with colour. “You are so cringey, Iwa-chan; normally you are just very cool and collected, but right now you are being cringey.”

Iwaizumi's smile widens, and he takes Oikawa's hands off his neck so he can hold them. “Only for you, Tooru.”

Oikawa laughs again, his eyes flash up to Iwaizumi's and then he leans forward to bump their foreheads gently together. “I like that, Hajime.”

“I'm glad,” Iwaizumi says, almost absently and leans forward to press a kiss to Oikawa's lips again.

“You know,” Oikawa says when Iwaizumi pulls back, and they stare into each other's eyes; a wide grin suddenly splits Oikawa's lips. “I noticed that stain you got on my volleyball shirt, and I demand you get it cleaned immediately-”.

Iwaizumi moves away with a groan, and a roll of his eyes; a smile tugs at his lips, however.

He doesn't get far before Oikawa laughs, and says, “No, Hajime, come back,” and tugs at his wrist. 

Iwaizumi immediately gives in and pulls him close; presses a kiss just behind his ear. “You're such an idiot.”

Oikawa leans into him with a soft sigh; his hair tickles Iwaizumi's face, and he feels so incredibly warm, and elated, and happy; and so, so deeply in love, especially when Oikawa turns in his arms, slides a hand along Iwaizumi's jaw and soundly presses their lips back together.

-

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stand together at the window; Matsukawa squints out at the embracing couple and Hanamaki finally hands the binoculars over to him. 

“I can't believe they finally got their act together,” Hanamaki says, pulling out a handkerchief and pretending to dab at his eyes. 

“It's truly a Christmas miracle,” Matsukawa sniffles, removing the binoculars as he pretends to wipe away a tear from his cheek. 

“Nope,” Hanamaki says, and he turns to grin wickedly at Matsukawa. “A Christmas miracle would be you getting me out of this turkey costume in under ten seconds, like you said you could.”

Matsukawa grins back, just as wickedly; taking hold of his hand. “Let's go upstairs and find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!! I seriously hope this wasn't too stupid lol, I'm kind of nervous :///
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated :) 
> 
> this may be my last fic of the year (I'll definitely be back next year with more fics though lol) but I just wanted to say thank you so much to all of my subscribers, and that I hope you have a lovely Christmas if you celebrate, and a lovely December if you don't. I hope you have a great new years as well. Also next year I might be putting out some klance fics as I've gotten super into Voltron, and I love them - but iwaoi will still be my number one to write, I just feel like writing in some other fandoms will be fun to do next year as well :) 
> 
> have a lovely day! (also pls be gentle with me if there's any glaring mistakes, I accidentally broke my glasses today but I really wanted to get this out so I decided to just go for it and give myself a good old headache from squinting at the computer screen - I should be getting a replacement pair tomorrow so I'll read through it properly then.)


End file.
